


Tan skin, Red Fins

by sidsvicious



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Multi, Peterick, also everyone has a thing for Gabe oops, also im lazy so u best damn believe they're gonna be some typos, also this is all unedited bc we are men, and Patricks also a hydrophobe, and he's scared of the dark, but the whole wentzporta is gonna be like breif, but this is mainly peterick, ill add tags as i go, or well it's suppose to be, this is based on aquamarine, this is shitty btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 12:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11943960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidsvicious/pseuds/sidsvicious
Summary: (loosely based on aquamarine.)It's Patrick and Joe's last summer in Beach City before Joe has to move back to Chicago, and they're determined to make the most of it. But one day, something totally unexpected happens.They meet a merman





	1. Chapter 1

"Joee!" Patrick groans, his toes stinging unbearably in the sand. "'M hot."

It's only the second week of summer and shit, the heat is really getting the better of him. The sun has always been Patrick's worst enemy—ah the perks of being pale.

"Stop complaining!" Joe says, shaking sand out of his curly hair, "You insisted on wearing /jeans/ to the beach!"

Patricks pouts, and tugs his trucker hat lower, covering his eyes, and mumbles "Whatever, Joe. We can't all be perfect.." 

Joe, just shrugs and continues to shake the sand out of his hair, the pebbles standing out on the dark brown. Though, the vigorous shaking of his head seems to not really change anything. 

Patrick sighs, and scoots closer to the shade of their umbrella. God, summer seems to be off to a /great/ start! 

"You know," Joe starts, "We could go to the arcade or something—It's our last summer in Beach City. We should at /least/ make the most of it?"

The strawberry blonde rolls his eyes, "It's only the second week, Joe. You're acting like you're leaving /tomorrow/. Plus, you know I hate the arcade, it smells in there. And at least out here I can gawk at the hot lifeguard."

As if on cue, both boys turn at the mention of him, sighing dreamily as they watch the lifeguard lean back casually as he scans the beach. God, he's so hot.

The lifeguard is a tall man with tanned skin and a fucking /perfect/ body named Gabriel Saporta. Patrick's grandparents—the ones who run the pier—hired him just at the start of summer. And boy, it just made they're summer /so/ much better.

"Do you suppose one of use will ever have the guts to ask him out?" Joe asks, voice sounding dazed.

Patrick shakes his head, "No, I mean you could, you're hot—but why the fuck would he agree to go out with me? I'm a chubby loser."

Joe swats him, "Don't say that! You're a total catch."

"You're probably saying that cos you're my best friend," he replies, rolling his eyes. "Oh dude, look!"

Their eyes trail off Gabe and over to the gaggle of annoyingly perfect boys—Great, Becketts gang, just what they needed.

"Hey, Gabey," William chirps, smiling up at the lifeguard.

Patrick and Joe retch simultaneously.

The lifeguard pushes up his sunglasses and beams at the former, "Hey yourself."

"God, I can't watch this," Joe whines, covering his eyes with his hands. "Gabe obviously likes him!"

"Hey, hey. You can't be so sure. Just watch his body language," The strawberry blonde points out, "the signs are simple—1) he shakes his hair and 2) he does the flex and stretch."

"You sound like a teenage fucking girl right now!" Joe says, scoffing. But watches the lifeguard nonetheless.

"I'm 16 so—fuck off!"

Both boys, watch as Gabe and Will exchange conversation, matching scowls on both of their faces. So far, Gabe doesn't show any of the signs, all he's really doing is nodding—nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, when they think they're out of the woods. The lifeguard, ever so lightly, uses his fingers to shake some of the salt out of hair.

Patrick hears Joe suck in a breath, "You saw that too, right?"

"It doesn't count, he /barely/ did it." Patrick replies quickly, trying to convince himself more than Joe.

Their eyes stay fastened on the two, Patrick gripping onto Joes arm. This has to be the most nerve racking thing he's /ever/ been apart of. 

William seems to have said something funny, because Gabe laughs, and then—

"No," Patrick breathes, as he watches the lifeguard raise his arms over his head, and stretches. Flexing his muscles ever so slightly.

Both boys stifle their screams of horror, and drop back under the umbrella. 

"Oh my god!" Joe exclaims, "I can't believe this!"

"I know," Patrick sighs, "Let's just go back to my house now."

Joe nods, and helps the other pick up their umbrella and towels. They trudge through the sand, passing the lifeguard station. 

"You know," Patrick hears one of William's minions say, "You'll never tan with all those clothes on."

Joe rolls his eyes, "Or get skin cancer."

"Oh please, we don't even smoke."

They exchange a look of disbelief at the comment, but keep walking. Once they're out of earshot—they burst out into a fit of giggles. 

"Oh God!" Joe says in between giggles, "Why are boys so stupid?"

Patrick just shakes his head, "Let's just go back to my place."

***

"Patrick, sweetie!" His grandma calls out, making the two boys turn around. "Aren't you going to help with the Last Splash decorations?"

Patrick sighs, "I can't Grandma! I'm having a camp out with Joe tonight!"

Joe laughs, "Man don't say it like that it sounds gay!"

Patrick's grandma sighs heavily, her hands on her hips, "At least bring the two boxes of steamers out of the shed!"

The strawberry blonde groans, "Ugh, fine! Let's go Joe."

They walk another few blocks till the reach the shed. Two cardboard boxes of streamers are conveniently placed outside of the door. 

"God, you Stumps sure take the Last Splash Seriously," Joe comments, picking up his box. 

"Shut up, they have a pier to run—and plus, don't act like you hate it." Patrick retorts, hauling the box. Jesus, these were surprisingly heavy for a box of /streamers/.

"Hey! I touched my first boob at a Last Splash," Joe says, laughing. "Ah, middle school memories,"

"Was that before or after you realized you were indeed a homosexual?" The former replies.

Joe swats him, "Ssssh!"

They continue their banter as they stalk back to Patrick's Grandmas station—once there, the drop the boxes off and head to Patricks house.

***

It's a rather stormy night in Beach City—which is a bit odd, the weather is usually better than this. Normally if it were to rain, it would be a bit of a drizzle, but it's a full storm this time. It shakes the poolhouse, and occasionally makes the TV short circuit.

"Can you believe this might be our last camp out together?" Joe asks, shoveling handfuls of popcorn in his mouth. 

Patrick rolls his eyes, "Again, Joe. Two weeks into summer."

"You don't know my schedule!" Joe says, "I might be busy with moving—and then we can't gawk at any hot lifeguards anymore!!"

The strawberry blonde just laughs in reply, rolling his eyes once more. In a sense, Joe's right—it really is gonna be a busy summer for him, moving back to Chicago and all. And he doesn't want to /even think/ about what would it be like without him.

"Oh Mighty gods of the Beach City," Joe says suddenly. 

"Joe what are—"

"Let my parents come to their senses and let me stay here, with my best friend Patrick Martin Stump," he tosses a piece of popcorn over his shoulder, "Amenth."

"God why are we friends?" Patrick asks, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know that's not gonna work right?"

"You doubt the mighty gods of Beach City!" Joe accuses, crooning a finger at him.

Patrick lets out an amused huff, "There /are/ no gods of Beach City. I'm not even sure there is even /a/ God."

"Blasphemy!" Joe yells, throwing fistfuls of popcorn at the strawberry blonde. 

Patrick throws a pillow at him, it hits him square in the head, causing Joe to stumble back. 

"You can be a killjoy all you want—but I know the gods of Beach City are on my side."

As if on cue, a strike of thunder hits the poolhouse—causing the lights and TV to turn off completely, They're stuck in pitch, black darkness.

A wave of panic hits all the amusement out of Patricks system. He hates the dark—almost as much as he hates the water, or the weird old skinny guy who works for his grandparents. 

"Joe?" He cries out, tears of panic threatening to spill over, as he frantically feels his way through the dark.

"I'm right next to you, Patrick," the other soothes, rubbing the blondes back in soothing circles. 

Patrick chokes out a relieved sob, he sniffles, "God, this storm is really something, huh?"

Joe notices his friends attempt at brightening the mood—he catches on quickly, "Yeah. Let's just try to get some sleep, though. We gotta make the most of tomorrow!"

Patrick nods, "You're right. Just don't spoon me in your sleep again."

Joe laughs, "You got it."


	2. Chapter 2

"Jesus that storm really ruined the pool," Joe comments, his eyes scanning the wreckage.

Patrick's grandparents and Gabe were already there, examining the debris in the pool, discussing on how they should fix it.

"Maybe we should cancel the Last Splash," Patrick overhears his Grandma say.

A wave of panic washes over him, "No!" He exclaims. Joe seems to catch on and adds on a "It's a tradition!"

The Stumps sigh heavily, and disregard the two boys, going back to their own conversation. Joe doesn't have any of it, and begins to freak out and start on a long rant about how 'you can't break tradition like this'!

Suddenly,a glowing light catches Patricks eye, on instinct, he moves closer to it, "Hey, Grandpa, did you forget to turn off the pool ligh—"

The stone under his left foot gives away, causing Patrick to lose his balance and fall into the murky pool.

His heart beats faster as he sinks lower to the bottom of the pool, he moves his arms and legs frantically, and his vision is blurred by the gunk in the water. Water enters his lungs as he tries to take breaths of air—the glowing light is back. He can see a deep crimson color and a flash of honey brown. Patrick's heart beats faster, as he darts his eyes, following the two clashing colors. 

He comes face to with a pair of whiskey brown eyes.

Patrick shrieks, bubbles of water escaping his mouth. 

Then, a pair of strong arms yank him out of the pool. 

The strawberry blonde coughs heavily, his chest heaving once he reaches the air. Coughing up a mix of salt water and chorine from the pool, it's all he can taste, his tongue burns.

"I saw something," Patrick panics, "they'res something in the water!"

Eventually he realizes fucking—Gabe is /carrying him/ and his brain basically stops working. But his mouth doesn't seem to stop mumbling, the words 'I saw something.'

"Hey, you're okay now," Gabe soothes, putting him down gently on the ground.

"My—my hat! Where's my hat?" Patrick's head is pounding now, the pain he didn't notice was there until now. It hurts. He feels like he's dying.

"Ssh, it's right here," Gabe says, placing Patricks trucker hat atop his head. 

A warm towel is quickly placed around his shoulders, his shaking hands grab the edges of it, wrapping it closer around him. 

"His parents drowned!" The strawberry blonde hears Joe explain to the lifeguard, he chooses to ignore it. But his face burns nonetheless. 

Joe kneels in front of him, his dark brown eyes burying into his, "Are you okay?"

"I saw something—Joe there's something down there." Patricks says, his hands still shaking slightly. 

"You're just in shock," Joe tells him, "probably from touching /Gabe/."

Patrick may be in shock, and still recovering from a panic attack, but you better goddamn believe he has enough energy to roll his goddamn eyes. "I know what I saw, Joe."

"So are you saying you wanna come back when it's night, and /explore/?" Joe asks, a hopeful glint in his dark eyes.

Patrick snorts, "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."

A grin stretches across Joe's face, "Fuck yeah."

***

Okay, Patrick has to admit—this is probably one if the most adventurous things he's ever done.

He and Joe snuck out and meet up at the pool at 12:00am exactly. And of course Joe /fucking brought gummy worms/z, typical. 

The pool is just how they left it this morning, the waters still as murky and fucking /disgusting/ and Patrick swears he sees a school of /fish/.

"So," Joe kneels at the pool ledge, his packet of gummy worms spill over. And a couple fall into the water. "What did it look like?"

Patrick racks his brain for a moment, "Uh, it was red, and it had these pretty brown eyes—I don't know how to describe it really."

"I think I can."

Both boys heads snap in the direction of the voice. "Holy shit." 

Patrick doesn't think he's ever seen a boy so pretty in his entire life—or if it would even count as a /boy/, he looked at least 19.

A man, with mocha colored skin and short hair, streaks of red stand out against the dark color. His hair is stuck together in large strands due to the salt, is leaning against the ledge, casually, his smile is beaming.

The man swims over to where the boys are kneeling, Patricks breath hitches as he catches a glimpse of the same shade of red he saw shimmering through the water. He lifts his tail up cockily. "I think it was a merman."

He and Joe scream, loud.

"My seas!" The merman exclaims, obviously exasperated. "You guys are louder than any pack of gulls I've ever heard!"

Joe looks at his friend, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, everything about his expression says 'go look closer, I'm too scared'

Patrick hesitantly scoots closer toward the creature. I mean, he looks harmless, he thinks, and he doesn't really look like he'd eat me.

"Wow," the merman breathes, his whiskey brown eyes wide in awe, "I've never been this close to a human before."

"That must be so weird for you," the strawberry blonde laments, holding back the urge to roll his eyes.

The creature moves closer to him, resting his tanned arms on the ledge of the pool, "Your eyes remind me of the ocean—so blue."

Patrick blushes, and tugs his hat down, "Yeah."

"What's your name?" Joe pipes in, still a yard away from the creature. Patrick lets out an amused huff. 

The merman rests his chin on the palm of his hand, pondering, "My names Pete. Nothing special."

It's Patrick's turn to ask questions, "How do you know English?"

"Merfolk know all languages known to humans, birds, fish, and crustations." Pete replies, perching himself on a pool step. "We're like the guardians of the ocean if you will."

"Cool!" Joe says, creeping a bit closer to the merman, intrigued. "But how did you get here?"

"I ran away," Pete tells, "my weddings in three days, I just couldn't take it."

"Why'd you run away, you get cold feet or something?" Patrick asks him, cocking his head to the side.

"Nope! I just didn't /love/ him—and that's the thing! My dad doesn't believe in that stuff. Says it's made up! But I know it's real!" Pete explains, a hopeful expression evident on his face.

"You don't have love where you live?" The strawberry blonde asks, "I'm so sorry."

Instead of replying Pete just looks up at Patrick through his long, dark lashes and asks "Is it my turn to asks questions now?" 

He just nods slowly, which makes the creature grin. "Thank you."

The merman swims over to a pool step, sits down, and leans back against the edge. His eyes trail toward a floating gummy worm. 

"Hey," Pete says to the gummy worm, "come back here."

Pete uses his hand to make a splashing motion toward him, emitting a small wave, making the gummy worm move closer to him. Joe and Patrick hold back a impressed squeal.

"How did y—" Joe starts to ask, his eyes wide.

Pete cuts him off, "I thought it was my turn to ask questions?"

That makes Joe clamp his mouth shut. Pete's grin returns, brighter this time as he chews on the worm.

"Anyways," He says, swallowing his bite, "who are you guys exactly? I mean I know you guys are /humans/, but that's really it."

"Well, I'm Patrick and he's Joe," the strawberry blonde introduces, pointing to his friend. "We basically live here in Beach City. But Joe was born in Chicago."

The merman nods, chewing thoughtfully. Patrick just hopes he isn't annoying him, he'd die of embarrassment if he is—imagine that, annoying a mythical creature.

Pete opens his mouth to speak again, but a shriek of "Joe! Patrick!" startles the three of them.

"We have to go," Joe says in a hushed voice, "that's Patrick's grandpa."

The startled merman just nods, "are you going to come back?"

Patrick reaches out and touches Pete's arm, "we'll be back tomorrow. I promise."

"Joe! Patrick!" the shriek comes again, louder this time.

Both boys wave goodbye to the creature, and hop on their bikes. 

"Shit man," Joe huffs, pedaling toward the Stump's house. "I forgot my gummy worms."

Patrick giggles, "You're a fucking idiot."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter instead of doing my homework, it's shitty and im basically obsessed with updating lmao

The next morning, Patrick pedals to Joe's house. It's around 7am and the beach-y air nips at his exposed arms. He shivers, suddenly wishing he brought a jacket.

"Shit, dude!" Joe says, once he spots Patrick, pedaling up to his driveway. "You got here really fast!"

Joe's leaning on the For Sale sign in his front yard, a box of gummy worms in his hand, his bike resting at his feet. Patrick scowls.

"I live like five blocks away from you, you fucking moron!" Patrick huffs, parking his bike against a tree. As much as he loves Joe, he can be kind of an idiot.

Joe rolls his eyes, "Whatever, let's just see what's up with the mermaid."

"Merman." Patrick corrects, emitting a snort from the former. 

Both boys hop on their bikes. Riding silently to the pool. 

Patrick still wonders if he dreamed it all.

***

"You're draining the pool!" 

Joe and Patrick stare dumbfounded at the nearly empty pool, the merman no where in sight.

"It's my job, kid." The pool guy says, sardonically. A bored expression plastered on his face. 

"Sir," Patrick's grandma calls, waving the pool guy over. "We need to talk payment details."

The guy drops his task at the sound of 'payment' and walks inside the poolhouse. Both boys exchange a worried look.

"Where is he?" The strawberry blonde asks, his voice laced with panic. 

Joe furrows his brow, "You don't think—"

"Hey! Guys over here!" 

They whirl around at the sound of the voice, Joe stifles a laugh.

Pete's waving frantically behind the pool shed, and from the looks of it—he's naked.

Both boys sprint over to the excited merman, who's covering himself with a pool floatie. His tail may be gone—but his dark hair and bright red highlights make him stand out like a sore thumb. 

Joe refrains from making direct eye contact with Pete as he asks, "How did you even get legs?"

"Oh well, merfolk have to stay completely dry in order to keep them—oh also sundown triggers the tail too. Aren't they cool?" Pete says, wiggling his toes.

"Yeah okay," Joe says, "You need clothes. Patrick give him your jeans."

Patrick sputters, "Wha–NO! The only thing I have under this is my /bathing suit/! You know how dorky I look with it on! What if Gabe sees me?"

Joe blinks at him, "You want him to walk around with his /dick out/?"

The strawberry blonde just glares at him, kicks off his shoes. And strips himself of his jeans, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

He hands Pete his pants, begrudgingly. The merman just beams at him and takes them gratefully.

"They might be a little big," Patrick informs him, turning around to give Pete privacy to change. "I'm sorta chubby."

"Stop saying that!" Joe scolds, "it'll probably fit him fine. We're just gonna take him back to your place anyways!"

Patrick narrows his eyes, "I never agreed to that! What if my grandparents see him?"

Joe snorts, "They'd probably be glad you have another friend other than me."

"We both know he's /way/ too hot to be my friend," The strawberry blonde says, rolling his eyes. "Wait did I say that out loud."

"Uh, guys? I'm ready now." The merman says, his voice hesitant.

Patricks face burns, his brain banging pots and pans together reminding him that /'hey what the fuck dude you called a guy you barely met hot'/, over and over and over again.

The strawberry blondes jeans admittedly are a bit large on the merman leg wise, though he rolled the ends up, just above his ankles. But somehow, Pete makes Patricks ratty old pants look like something out of a Designer magazine. 

And shit, Pete's fucking /body/ is quite a sight to behold. He almost drools at the way the merman's sun kissed skin looks, perfectly toned and tanned.

It's Joe's voice that shakes him out of his trance, "You look good, dude!"

At this point, Patrick can't really decide if he /wants/ the merman or simply just wants to /be/ him, he figures it's the latter.

Pete beams in response, and does a mini twirl at the compliment, "Thank you!"

"This kind of got gay really quick," Patrick blurts, laughing softly. "Also we better get going 'fore the pool guy asks why we're back here."

Joe shepards the merman toward where their bikes are. Patrick furrows his brow as he watches Pete hop up on his handle bars, grinning at him over his shoulder. 

"What are you doing?" the strawberry blonde asks, ignoring Joe's confused stare. 

"I'm being inventive," Pete tells him, "I saw some girls doing it, and you guys don't have three bikes."

Joe scoffs, "Those were /girls/ we're men! We ride our own bikes and certainly /don't/ ride each others handle bars."

"Don't even try that," Patrick retorts, "just the other day you tried putting on your moms eyeliner."

"Ryan does it!"

"Thats's because Ryan's pretty enough to /pull it off/" Patrick explains, rolling his eyes.

"Are you saying I'm not pretty?" Joe accuses, mock distress written all over his face.

Pete huffs, "Are you ever gonna start pedaling? The bars are starting to dig into my ass."

Patrick laughs, "You deserve it, you act like a princess." 

"Prince," Pete corrects, swiping a stray lock from his eyes, "do you humans act dumb or are you just like that?"

The two boys share a look, before Joe just bursts out laughing and starts pedaling away, chuckling to himself. 

"Well?" Pete says, looking at him impatiently, "what are you waiting for?"

He rolls his eyes and starts after Joe, the merman still perched atop his bikes handles

***

Later on, when they've successfully herded Pete into Patrick's bedroom, Joe searches his closet—/totally invading Patrick's privacy as well/—and hands the merman his old Joan Jett tour T-shirt and pants that Patrick swears he threw out when he was starting 8th grade.

"What the fuck, Joe?" The blonde asks, thoroughly surprised, "How'd you even know those were there?"

Joe shrugs and says "I've been your friend for too long—I got my secrets."

His friend shoos Pete to change, pointing at the bathroom door. The merman clumsily walks inside. Patrick hears something clatter.

"This is not really how I imagined our summer to go," he tells Joe, flopping backwards on his bed.

"Pretty sure no one really expected this," Joe replies, taking a seat next to his sprawled form. "It's something out of a fucking /movie/."

Both boys wait patiently for the merman to change, Patrick's thoughts wander while Joe hums some annoyingly repetitive guitar riff he's working one, over and over again.

"Will you quit that?" Patrick snaps, it's getting hard to day dream with his friends annoying humming. "I can't take it anymore."

Joe shrugs, "Sorry, I'm just nervous," 

"Nervous?"

"He's been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes—no guy even /takes/ that long to do /anything/." Joe replies, his eyes suddenly fixated on the door, "should we check on him?"

Patrick nods silently, both boys creep up toward the door. "Pete, my guy. You okay?" Joe asks, knocking.

As if on cue, Pete swings open the door, smiling widely and says, "Thank you for asking! I'm wonderful!"

"Dude," Patrick says, crooning a finger at the merman, "Are you wearing /make up/?"

It's not really a lot of it, its just eyeliner. Applied artfully and perfectly smudged to create a smoky effect—rimming his whiskey brown eyes perfectly. Patricks chest pangs.

Pete beams and flutters his dark lashes, "I found it in the little box on the counter, I think it makes me look pretty."

"You look like a lesbian," Joe tells him, face unamused, Patrick snorts.

Pete tilts his head to the side a bit, a lock of red tinted hair falls into his eyes, "What?"

The strawberry blonde and his friend share a look, "Don't listen to Joe," he says. "Joe's a dumbass."

But Pete isn't listening to either of them—his eyes are fixated on the window, lips parted in fascination. "Who's that?" 

Patrick and Joe walk over to the window, curiously. 

Gabe—/their/ lifeguard—is once again patrolling his beach, looking as perfect as ever. They exchange a fearful look as they realize what Pete meant.

"No!" Patrick blurts, "Hes off limits, he's probably straig—"

Pete cuts off his rambling, "You know," he says, "If you help a merman, you get a wish."

"Wait," Joe holds up a hand, "help you with what?"

"I need to prove to my dad that love exists! I want /him/" the merman tells him, pointing at the lifeguard. A dreamy look plastered across his face. "I need to make him fall in love with me."

Patricks throughly confused, "So about the wish—can it be anything? /If/ we decide to help you?"

The merman nods, his eyes never leaving Gabe, "As long it doesn't disrupt the laws of nature. It can be /anything/"

Joe gives Patrick some silent form of agreement, Patrick gives one back. 

"Okay," Joe says, "We'll help you prove to your dad loves real."

Instantly, the merman's eyes tear away from the lifeguard and falls onto the two boys, "Really?"

They both nod.

Pete squeals loudly, and engulfs the two in a giant, strangling hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you so fucking much!"

Joe awkwardly pats the merman's back, replying with a 'of course.'

Patrick just realizes what he just got himself into.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is poorly written I write as a form of therapy and usually when I write it's basically me having a Episode and shit like that


End file.
